


The Proper Care and Feeding of Alphas

by Dramatological



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, BAMF Lydia Martin, Comedy, Crack, Creeper Peter, Established Relationship, Funny, M/M, Omega Stiles Stilinski, Satire, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-06-29
Packaged: 2018-04-06 03:18:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4205946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dramatological/pseuds/Dramatological
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Join the Omega's Home Journal as they get inside the Hale pack to reveal the secrets of newly crowned Domestic Queen, Stiles Stilinski.  You, too, can become the perfect mate with these simple tips and tricks, presented by experts.</p><p>Make your den a happy den.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stiles' Recipe Box

**Author's Note:**

> This is a satire of those 1950s guides to being a perfect wife, translated to modern day werewolf packs. It sounded hilarious in my head. Wait'll I start on knotting. Oh, baby.
> 
> No smut. No angst (unless you're partial to squirrels and/or moles).

Good Evening and welcome to News Nine at Six. If we didn't broadcast it, it didn't happen. I'm your host, Ted Carmichael.

And I'm Lisa Andrews. We have a very special broadcast, this evening. In collaboration with Omega's Home Journal, we will be taking you inside the Hale pack, where newly crowned Domestic Queen of our own Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski, will be spilling all the secrets to becoming the perfect werewolf mate.

Wow, Lisa. I'd better call my wife and make sure she's watching!

Haha, Ted! I know I will certainly be taking notes. And without further ado, here's Mary.

-=-=-=-

The camera pans lovingly over lush woodlands, fuzzy woodland creatures, and then out to a peaceful suburban street. There's an old man in shorts and knee socks watering his grass. Children are playing, a young pretty couple is walking their dog. And at the end of the block stands a woman, pretty in a bottled blonde for broadcast journalism sort of way. She's standing in front of a large house with an immaculate yard. Rose bushes line the walk.

"Thank you, Lisa. I'm standing in front of the very house in which Beacon Hills' favorite son performs miracles on a daily basis, taking care of his pack. And tonight, he's going to show us how he does it."

The camera cuts to Stiles, sitting, smiling on a big couch next to a sour faced Derek. Mary's hair cuts off one corner of the shot, as if to prove she's actually there.

"Stiles Stilinski, with his mate, Derek Hale. So good to meet you. Now just last month you were crowned Domestic Queen, or as we call it fondly around here, Miss Beacon Hills. First, let me extend my congratulations on that accomplishment. You must be so proud."

Stiles grins, bouncing a little in his seat, "You would not believe the number of bouquets I came home with. Couldn't even find room for all of them. We just don't have that many vases. I mean, I thought about just buying a whole bunch of them, but Sourpuss put his foot down." He cuts a flirtatious grin at Derek, who frowns.

"Haha, I bet. Where would you keep them all? Now, you got world record breaking marks in all of the judging categories, and we would love to go through them so you can tell us all how you did it. We don't have a whole lot of time, so let's just jump right in. Now, dinner. One of the most talked about facets of being a werewolf mate is that someone is always bringing home bacon. But the reality is, it's almost never bacon, is it? How do you manage to feed your whole pack without ever knowing what dinner will be beforehand?"

"Flexibility, Mary. The sides are easy, nice salad and some veggies for fiber, but you have to have a big file of recipes for every possible meat option and be ready to make any one of them at a moment's notice."

The camera cuts to a kitchen where Stiles is standing at a counter with four massive binders, each the size of an Oxford Dictionary, "A lot of these you can download from online, but for some, you just gotta collect them from friends or family, or even be prepared to make something up. Derek once brought home a trunk full of squirrels. Squirrels."

A grunt sounds from off camera, "They were destroying your bird feeders. I did that for you."

Stiles aims a look at his unseen mate, "You massacred an entire tribe of squirrels, dude, then brought them home and expected dinner."

Mary's laughter only sounds party fake, "Wow. What did you do?"

"I made something up!" Stiles flips through one of the books to find a page and pushes it at the journalist, "And wrote it down, see. That's the important part. You make something up, you write it down. Deep Fried Squirrel Sticks. You just skin them bread them and deep fry them. Wham, bam, dinner is served. Leave the tails on for dipping and a great looking plate. Functional and fabulous. Everyone loved them, but we can't eat that too often, we keep running out of squirrels."

"I'd just like to remind our viewers that all of Stile's recipes that we talk about today are available on our website at Omega Home Journal dot com."

Stiles nodded, "Yeah, yeah, totally. That and the mole with mole poblano."

"You cooked actual moles in mole sauce?"

Stiles grins, "Peter brought them home. And the word play appealed to me."

The camera cuts to Peter, sitting cross legged on the same large couch, his hand folded neatly in his lap. He stares at Mary, unblinking, "They were digging up Mrs. Ng's petunias. I merely rectified the problem," he said in his soft spoken, overtly polite tone. He smiles slowly at the journalist who can be heard gulping.

Stiles is back before the viewers get any more uncomfortable, looking smug as he leans against the counter with his arms crossed, "Yeah, I was pretty proud of that one."

Mary grins from where she appears in the frame, standing further in the kitchen, "As well you should be!" She looks at the camera, "And we'll be right back after this word from our sponsors, where we'll be talking about interpack diplomacy. Exciting stuff! Stay tuned."


	2. Diplomacy

Stiles is sitting at the kitchen table, now, Derek next to him, Mary's hair prominently displayed in the foreground, mugs and milk and a little bowl of sugar cubes scattered about the table top.

"And we're back with Miss Beacon Hills, Stiles Stilinski." The blonde hair shifts as Mary leans forward, "So, Stiles. One of the most important functions of a mate in hosting foreign dignitaries and leaders from packs all over the world. In fact, you recently hosted Alpha Deucalion, and brokered a peaceful settlement between him and the Hale pack, right as there was talk of a hostile takeover."

Stiles is nodding, picking up his mug and sipping at it before he sets it back down, "That is a fact, Mary."

"What was it like, hosting such a powerful Alpha?"

Stiles glances at Derek, who seems to communicate an entire Shakespearean Monologue solely through eyebrow movement. The younger man just stares at the Alpha for a minute before he looks back at Mary, "You wouldn't believe the growling, Mary. Growling. All day, all night, and when the growling gets tired, they switch to howls. Duke even roared a couple of times, which I admit, was pretty hot." Derek glowers at the boy, but gets ignored, "It's loud, and messy, and you have no idea how tough it is to get blood out of deep pile carpet. You know, thankfully him and Peter bonded over their shared love of kidnapping teenagers, or we'd never have gotten any sleep."

"And somehow, you managed to pacify him, rescue the teenagers, and still had time to make a wonderful Blueberry Tart. Tell us how you did that."

"Diplomacy," Stiles says, leaning forward as if sharing a great secret, "Is all in knowing who to send to the talks. Me? I have a little secret weapon I like to call Lydia."

The scene cuts to the red haired girl smiling prettily at the camera. Peter can be seen in the background, staring at her, but no one mentions him, "Duke and I had fun."

The scene cuts again, now showing a grungy basement apartment somewhere with the words 'undisclosed location' flashing across the bottom of the screen. Deucalion is standing in front of a window, curtains closed tightly but for the little sliver of light where the Alpha is peering out to the street nervously, "You didn't bring her, did you? She not with you?" He looks back at the camera, eyes wide, almost panicked, "You can't tell her where I am."

Cut back to Lydia, now examining her nails, "We went shopping…"

"So many shoes…" Deucalion is sitting on a shabby couch, wringing his hands, "She couldn't possibly wear that many. She couldn't possibly store that many. I've seen her closet, it's not a warehouse." He stares up at the camera, "Do you know what a Louboutin is? I don't. But there were boxes of them. Stacked chest high, and she smiled that dimpled little mouth at me, and I carried them all."

Peter has moved closer when Lydia is shown again, "Some karaoke…"

Deucalion rubs at his face with his hands, groaning, "Four hours of someone named Katy Perry, and a little blonde thing named Taylor who wouldn't stop singing about some boy. Heart and the Bangles and that song with the…" he starts to sing quietly, "Turn around, bright eyes…" He trails off, shaking his head, "I can hear it still, sometimes, in my sleep."

Lydia's dimpled grin is truly breathtaking, "Finished the day with a perfect mani-pedi."

Deucalion is silent, staring off into the distance, shaking and locked inside the nightmarish memories in his head. He starts to weep.

Peter is missing now, when the camera cuts back to Lydia, stilling smiling a dreamy little smile. She tilts her head, exposing the man, on his knees behind the couch, his nose buried in her hair, "I find almost anything can be fixed with a targeted application of retail therapy."

Peter reaches up to pull a lock of her hair away, his eyes closed in bliss as he murmurs into the strands, "My dark queen. We could rule the..."

"Down, boy."

Peter drops the hair and slinks off, dejected.

The camera cuts back to the kitchen, Stiles is trying to give Derek a Clark Kent curl. The Alpha endures. Mary's hair bounces, "That is an amazing story. And how did you rescue the teenagers?"

Stiles looks over, unconcerned, "Oh, that was easy. You just send Scott to moralize at the bad guys until they surrender."

Scott, on the same couch, leaning forward, his hands on his knees and his eyes almost painfully earnest, "It was wrong."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for all the support! I'm glad I'm not the only one enjoying this!


	3. Knotting

"If we could, I'd like to get into some of the more…" Mary's hair bounces hesitantly. Or, at least bounces while she hesitates, which seems to assign the motivation to her hair, "Intimate aspects of being a weremate."

Stiles is back on the couch. So is Derek, though he's looking away and his cheeks are very slightly pinkish. One can almost feels the cameraman's self-control in not going for the close up. Stiles nods, leaning forwards a little, "You mean the," he glances at Derek and his voice lowers, "Knotting."

Mary's hair nods, "Right. So many people speculate about that, maybe you could clear some things up. It seems that would take a lot of time out of the day, how do you deal with that?"

"Preparation," the younger man nods, leaning back in the couch, "Really, it sounds like you're stuck in bed for hours on end, doing nothing, but with a little old fashioned know how, you don't have to be. I made a carrier."

The camera cuts to a scene peeking through a door at Derek and Stiles inside a room, their voices low, but still picked up by the camera. Derek is shaking his head, "I'm not demonstrating the carrier."

Stiles is pushing a black strappy thing at the werewolf, "Dude, it's national television, just put it on."

Derek's eyebrows are doing remarkably acrobatic things on his forehead as he repeats, slower this time, "I am not. Demonstrating. The carrier."

Stiles just stares at him for a long moment before the camera cuts away again, now showing Derek, still fully clothed, wearing a harness over his shoulders. Stiles is strapped securely to his front, his legs pulled up. He spreads his arms, "Now, see, you can do anything you need to do. No more time wasted." He grins, squirming around a bit, "Derek likes to knot in the mornings, and then we go running together."

Mary's disembodied voice from off camera, "And your neighbors are okay with that?"

Stiles shrugs while Derek answers the question, "He passes out around the two mile mark, and then it's very peaceful."

Stiles purses his lips, "Well, there was the one time I came all over Mrs. Ng's petunias."

A small, elderly Asian woman and a younger woman, presumably a daughter or granddaughter are in the shot, now, standing behind a box of really quite pretty flowers. The petite old woman is talking quickly is something that sounds Chinese, which someone at the studio has helpfully translated in subtitles.

"Prize winning petunias!" She shakes a little hand shovel at the flowers, "Sperm all over my prize winning petunias!"

The younger woman smiles awkwardly, "She says they're good neighbors."

The elderly woman continues, the hand shovel waving now at the street, "Running up the block every morning, the big one grunting, and the small one screaming, his little penis flapping back and forth..." She wiggles her shovel as if to demonstrate.

Wide eyed, the younger woman just keeps lying through her teeth, "Very quiet and…" She shakes her head a little, "Uh… Good, good neighbors."

"The whole house is like that! Howling at the moon every month, and I once caught that Scott boy urinating on the fence! Claims he was warning off stray dogs. Why would you need to pee on a dog to warn them?! Should warn the dogs _before_ you pee on them!"

The younger woman gets this panicked, wild-eyed look and swallows, "Uh… They have … backyard barbeques sometimes and…" She's scanning the street for help that isn't coming, "The whole neighborhood comes…"

"Except that Peter," the old woman suddenly breaks into a brilliant smile, "He's a good boy. He took care of my mole problem," she pokes the younger woman, "Why couldn't you marry someone like Peter?"

The younger woman coughs, "She's grateful for Peter's help with the moles."

The camera cuts back to the studio where Lisa is smiling her perfectly white smile, "We do have one small correction. We're hearing from the Hale family spokesman that Stiles' penis is actually quite large."

"Massive, Lisa." Ted nods, as if he knew firsthand.


End file.
